


There Are Two Kinds of Cells In This Quest

by Plant_Cell_Park



Category: Dead Cells, Hyper Light Drifter
Genre: Crossover, Gen, I have no clue what else to put here, Nonbinary Character, also if you squint you can see the driftguard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-05
Updated: 2019-01-05
Packaged: 2019-10-04 19:09:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17310233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Plant_Cell_Park/pseuds/Plant_Cell_Park
Summary: The Prisoner could hear the faintest gunshots from where they perched on, seeing as the vultures that were once very high in the air descend, even if they weren't too clear to look at from afar.It would seem someone is heading here, and that meant something new around these parts of the island.





	There Are Two Kinds of Cells In This Quest

Ever since their escape from the ever-shifting island they hailed from, they had witnessed history of another island's inhabitants, one that has currently lasted an entire millennia. They had seen the inhabitants on this island advance in the fields of science, and with that, they had seen the somewhat surprising revelation that the Malaise had spread to this island in particular.

They came to the conclusion that someone from that hell of a kingdom was able to escape. Or two.

Bodies these days were scarce, or to be more specific: headless bodies were scarce. Not that it's a bad thing for them, after all, they are—in their truest form— a mass of cells, all clumped up into one singular being. But it did not stop them from searching for carcasses to inhabit, for lack of a better term.

They just preferred headless bodies, that's all.

The old body that they escaped with rotted many years prior to the present, that body holding memories of the shifting island from the north. It made them feel a subtle melancholy for a moment, worthwhile memories of the past resurfacing...

If there was anything worthwhile to remember that is.

As of the present, the Prisoner—as they were called by Guillain in the past— was merely sitting atop on the edge of a pillar, fiddling with a bag on their side, and observing the vultures as they wander about peacefully.

Until someone decided to ruffle up their feathers.

The Prisoner could hear the faintest gunshots from where they perched on, seeing as the vultures that were once very high in the air descend, even if they weren't too clear to look at from afar.

It would seem someone is heading here, and that meant something new around these parts of the island.

Or it could be just the Guardian from central town.

* * *

Fighting through the vultures wasn't a pain for the Drifter, however it was mildly infuriating, the way there were many of them on the ridge.

Ascending the north was about as straightforward as it can get for the Drifter. All he really had to do was activate the pillar up the top, then move on to the other parts of the island. All that really hindered him was his illness and the enemies that came with these places.

Climbing the stairs, the Drifter observed the environment from the edge of the mountain. The view was rather serene. The snow falling above the hard rock made it so that it hid the remains of former inhabitants. He saw a shack in another ledge, skeletons within it.

It reminded him that this place wasn't peaceful.

He continued on ascending the mountain, fighting whatever hindered him on his path, and exploring the area around.

He met a hermit along the way, in hiding from the other vultures in the ridge.

After a brief climb on a broken stairway, he caught a glimpse of the jackal that led him in his vision-like dream, the translucent diamond in front of its head. He saw it as it went up the stone staircase and went after it, hearing what sounded to be gunshots.

There he saw the Guardian, fighting off three vultures with grace and ease.

He went up the short staircase to greet him, maybe thank him. The Guardian noticed the Drifter approaching him.

"Ah, there you are. You seem to be in a better state than when I last saw you."

The Drifter turned his head to the Guardian, and approached him.

"Erm, yeah. Thank you, for that."

The moment of respite the both of them shared was relaxing, the both of them sharing a few things at hand, such as the location of a few modules and the reason why the Guardian was in the ridge in the first place.

"That creature, it almost seems to be the same thing I've had visions of as well," the Drifter whispered.

The silence was the only thing there after the Drifter said that, that is before he broke the silence, telling the Guardian that he should continue upwards.

"Well, if we ever meet in other places, we could always take the time to talk," the Guardian replied.

Under the mask, the Drifter smiled, and proceeded to continue his ascent on the Winding Ridge.

* * *

The Prisoner was still observing from the top of the same pillar he was at. The gunshots were becoming louder, but it wasn't just gunshots.

Standing up on the pillar, they saw a man clad in red and orange, slashing and shooting away as he defended himself from the vultures. The coat wasn't the only thing they noticed of this fellow either.

The Prisoner caught glimpses of the fellow's skin.

" _Blue skin_ ," they thought. It reminded them of the drunkard just outside one of the shops at central town.

The Prisoner was very sure they hadn't met this person yet, let alone saw him at the central town. Maybe it was a new inhabitant.

They stayed up on the pillar, squatting back down as they observed the fellow fighting.

The sword the man had at hand reminded them of a sword they wielded long, long ago...

It also reminded them of those blasted spears the lancers used back at the High Peak Castle.

They saw the stranger finish off the final vulture shaman, dealing the final blow against the vulture shaman below, finishing off with a sword to the groud.

" _Wow, what a show off_ ," the Prisoner thought.

The stranger went up the staircase, not noticing the Prisoner perching on top of the pillars, until he decided to drop down to the snow. Jet black eyes on blue skin met a spark within a black mass.

The stranger drew his sword and his gun, pointing the latter at them. The Prisoner retaliated by forming an "X" with the arms of their body. The stranger was wary, but lowered his gun, not aiming for the body of the Prisoner. The sword however, stayed.

"Who are you?" the stranger exclaimed.

The Prisoner, with the inability to speak, raised his finger, as if they were saying, " _Wait a moment_ ," before he took out a seemingly old journal and a writing implement.

And there he started to write something.

The stranger was, admittedly, confused at the sight. It was the first time he's seen this sort of response from someone in his life as a drifter.

The Prisoner, finished with what he was writing, handed the journal to the drifter, a response written on the open page.

" _I don't exactly have a name, but Prisoner would do, I guess._"

The stranger only looked back at the Prisoner, his eyes slightly narrowing at them.

It was tense, both people could sense it in the stranger finally responded, as he closed the journal and threw it at the Prisoner, who successfully caught it.

"What are you doing around these parts?"

The Prisoner just wrote like normal, tossing the journal to the stranger, who caught it with ease.

" _Oh I was just going around greeting vultures every which way._ "

Below that, there was an ellipsis, then another message.

" _I just wanted to explore around, maybe see what changed around these parts._ "

The stranger just stared at him, his expression almost unreadable, save for how his eyes narrowed a bit more as he looked at them.

He let his sword dissipate into cyan light as he stores the hilt on his belt, and tossed the journal back to the Prisoner.

"My name is... Drifter. Just Drifter."

The tone at which he said it was brief, but it was all that was needed for an introduction after someone would threaten to kill the other person in the confrontation.

The tension was still there, but it wasn't as suffocating as it was before, which wasn't saying too much.

The Drifter, after a few more moments of silence, walked away from the Prisoner, climbing the staircase leading up to the mysterious device the Prisoner vaguely remembers.

When they reached the end of the staircase, the Prisoner was about to write another response in their journal, before the Drifter cut them off.

"If you were about to ask as to what I'm here for, I need to activate something over there."

He pointed towards the the strange device embedded within the snow. All the Prisoner could respond with was a nod of acknowledgment.

They began to scratch out what they wrote down at first and wrote a new question in place of the previous one, and proceeded to actually give it gently to the Drifter.

The page this time had more in it than the last 2 times the journal has been passed onto him.

" _Well, I tried go over there at one point, maybe to see what that thing is. I can't seem to do that unfortunately. Something's preventing me from crossing through it._ "

There was more underneath.

" _The ways I know of to get there, I think, would be that one warp pad down that path over there, the lifts that go with it, and those doors that have dark triangles on it._ "

And one last sentence beneath it.

" _And I've been meaning to explore the caverns of this place for a time now. Haven't been in there for a long, long while so maybe we can, oh I don't know, go through those places together._ "

The Drifter was silent for a moment, his hand partially cupping his chin, as if he was thinking of a response to the Prisoner's suggestion.

Which he was.

It was only silence and the occasional snow fall and wind before the Drifter finally responded.

"... Maybe I could use the help."

The Prisoner was elated at the prospect of finally lessening the risk of losing this body of theirs. Of course, they could have checked whatever was waiting after they would eventually go underground, but the risk of losing a good body was about as annoying as it can get.

Especially if one's particular preference of bodies are more on the headless side of things.

And if the particular body one would have at the time was a good find as well.

The both of them proceeded to the warp pad down the path with the flight of stairs and used it, ending up on a seemingly floating piece of rock.

The Drifter saw a lift pad embedded onto the snow, and used it.

The Prisoner followed soon thereafter, smashing down on the pad right after the Drifter stepped off it.

And so the real exploration began.

**Author's Note:**

> I saw that there was no fanfiction for Dead Cells. So I went ahead and made one.
> 
> Hell yeah.


End file.
